Heartless Angel
by Matthew R. Barnes
Summary: SMKingdom Hearts. The Heartless have set their sights on Crystal Tokyo, with an ominous shadow at their head. Chapter 2 re-uploaded to fix formatting, chapters 3 and 4 uploaded 'cuz I'm such a nice guy.
1. 0 Foreword

0. Foreword

Hello, and welcome to the Foreword of "Heartless Angel", my fifth foray into the world of internet-published fanfiction on It also happens to be my _second_ foray into the world of anime-meets-game crossovers (third, if you count separate installations of the same cross).

In case the name fails to tip off those who have not fought a certain optional boss, this is a Sailor Moon/Kingdom Hearts cross. However, don't be expecting to see Sora, Riku, or much of anybody else from the original game—_least_ of all any characters with Disney connections. This cross takes a rather different direction from most SM/KH crosses on only _one_ character from Kingdom Hearts is featured in this work of fiction, though I like to think he makes plenty of impression all on his own.

In addition, be warned that there _are_ Original Characters used liberally in this work, at least three (so far) who possess significant relevance to the plot. I have done my best to maintain a level of reasonable, "natural" importance without allowing them to dominate the story, but _constructive_ means of criticism to help me keep them in line are more than appreciated by any who read this and maintain enough interest. Be warned, in addition, that the fic also makes blatant use of OC-Senshi pairings. Again, I have attempted to maintain a level of good taste and reason in this; however, due to this, certain Senshi will see a little more proverbial "screen time" than others—though I by no means plan to cut any character out.

In addition to the original characters, let it be noted that this piece makes judicious use of "borrowed" properties left and right, for the most part simply in names, though there is one significant device borrowed from the world of Suikoden. I am aware that certain phrases, quips and attack names are neither of my own creation, nor from Kingdom Hearts _or_ Sailor Moon; consider the homage or laziness as you will, they are there regardless. There is no need to review simply to point out my unoriginality or to inform me that a phrase or property comes directly from a specific anime or game. I more than likely know, and if I do not know, I will more than likely not change it unless you pay me.

Another important matter that I should point out is that this piece makes certain significant changes to the history of the modern-day Senshi, which will be pointed out and elaborated upon as they become relevant to the plot—or a little later, perhaps, in the interest of suspense. If something seems odd or out of place, please bear this in mind; this work of fiction assumes that a significant chain of events took place between the "SuperS" and "Stars" seasons of the anime, though it uses elements from the manga as research has dictated are more interesting to me personally.

As a final element of note, I wish to point out that there will obviously be spoiler material for all properties contained therein, both in the summary and in the forthcoming chapters of the fic itself. Thank you for your time, patience, and hopefully readership. I hope anyone reading this fic enjoys it as much as I've enjoyed hammering it out.

Moving on to the promised Summary.

The setting is 30-something'th-century "Crystal Tokyo", long after the fiasco of the Dead Moon family's less than triumphant return. The kingdom is at relative peace, weapons have been laid aside, and the Guardians of Crystal Tokyo are more or less content, though there are certain among them have made it their mission to see to it that the rest do not grow lax in their peacetime. The Princess Usagi, still known in certain fond circles as "Small Lady", has assumed the title and powers of "Sailor Moon", but in an era of little need for a legendary guardian, the position is largely ceremonial.

However, something is about to disrupt this perfect, Utopian society, a force from beyond the fabric of reality that exists only to consume all that is not of the darkness. It desires only one thing, to snuff out the very light of the Earth and all its neighboring worlds.

It begins with a rude awakening in the dead of night…


	2. 1 OneWinged Devil

1. One-Winged Devil

_Damn that alarm to the other side of the Black Moon…_ Alex groaned softly, under his breath. That had been his favorite dream, too. _If this is another drill, court-martial or no, I'm gonna loosen a few of the Captain's teeth. I don't care if she _is_ a woman._

It wasn't that his bed in the barracks was particularly comfortable, unbearable to leave. On the contrary, he'd slept on softer and more inviting rocks. But sleep was sleep, and since signing up for the service he'd learned to cherish every second of it he could snatch.

After all, the most perfect Utopia on Earth didn't maintain itself.

Alex hefted his sword-belt higher as he tromped through the corridors, their quartz-like surface glimmering ethereally from the light produced by the crystal ceiling. It never failed to boggle his mind how the crystalline surfaces of the castle defied any and all attempts to produce even the slightest scratch. He'd even managed to get his hands on a_ diamond_ once for an attempt, borrowed from a bunkmate who was saving it for a proposal on his next leave-time. Alex winced at the memory of his friend's tongue-lashing, when the stone's perfect edges had been rounded off without producing so much as a tiny mark on the crystal wall.

There had been very little left of his paycheck after replacing that.

He permitted a smirk to cross his face as the man in question filed in beside him, his friend's mind clearly far from the matter in question, given his somber expression. Alex forced himself to focus once again, his blue-flecked gray eyes turning forward once more.

What was this all about? Surely it wasn't really a drill—they'd just had one two days previous; the next one wasn't due for at least a week, though the Captain sternly refused to allow her division of the CTDF to become lax even in peace-time.

"Any idea what's up?" Alex stage-whispered from the corner of his mouth to his colleague, an eager private named Grey.

Grey snorted, shaking his head sharply to fling wisps of dark hair out of his namesake eyes. "You know they never tell us privates anything. C'mon, run faster. I wanna see what this is all about."

"Better not be a drill," Alex repeated the thought echoing through his head aloud. Judging from the sound, his friend bit his tongue to stifle a snicker.

They were joined by three more privates and an unexpected corporal, who immediately filed in to the lead as they wound the last bends to the exit that lead into the Palace's courtyard. The group lined up, rank and file amidst the other soldiers who had been roused by the subdued but inexorable alarm's oddly musical chime. Alex was frankly surprised to see the small number of crisp white uniforms, golden crescent-shaped badges marking their allegiance at the left shoulder. There was ample space in the courtyard for the entire CTDF to form up, and then some, and he knew that given who the division leaders were, there was no reason for the force itself to be overwhelmingly large at present. However, either the military was smaller than he had realized, or only a few squads had been buzzed out, for there weren't more than thirty soldiers present—most of them privates like Grey, a few specialists like Alex, and two more corporals.

So it's no state of emergency. Doesn't look like a drill, either. Where's the Captain, though…? Ahh, there she is.

Early on, it may have been difficult for some soldiers (most of them now ranking officers) to take their commanding officer seriously when she was dressed in a seemingly absurd white _fuku_, complete with a skirt shorter than a quick sneeze and overlarge bows adorning the back of her waist and the center of her chest, to say nothing of the tiara that the masculine cut of her hair failed to completely conceal. Those men had learned quickly not to stare at her exposed legs, however, lest they be tasting her short blue high-heeled boot for a month.

Recalling his earlier train of thought, Alex bit down hard on the corners of his mouth to keep his face straight. _She's practically a man anyway, no one would blame me for slugging her like one._

"Excellent time, soldiers," the woman called Sailor Uranus announced, her voice deep and gruff as though striving to emulate masculinity. "You just saved your pensions for another two weeks. However, this is no mere drill."

This time Alex had to force himself not to perk up. Trouble was never a good thing, but it was at least good to know that he had not been roused from _that_ dream for nothing. Grey didn't bother to conceal his pleasure so much, his posture straightening as he stood even taller, capping Alex's height despite his lesser years.

Wisely, no one spoke. Their Captain waited a few moments longer, striding briefly along the front of the lined-up ranks before stopping to face them again. "An intruder has been detected in the confines of the Palace block of the city, his intentions confirmed as hostile."

_Hostile? Who would be stupid enough to…?_

"As of this moment, the Guardians of Fire, Thunder, and Sea are fanning out through the city in pursuit. _We_ are going to tighten that web. You will be divided up into search units and directed to individual sectors, to follow all vectors and pursue the deviant before he escapes. Corporal Sakuishi will begin handing out your group division and sector assignments, now. Should you encounter the suspect you are to detain him as best you are able and wait for a Guardian to reach your location. Do not attempt to arrest this man on your own."

As brisk as ever, once her words were finished, the Captain (a deceptive rank in name only, all told, since in truth she ranked even the highest officer in the Defense Force) turned and strode across the courtyard, to meet another "sailor"-suited young woman emerging from the Palace gates. Alex had no time to try and identify which one, before his orders were placed into his hand in the form of a small silvery ComPad. The device conformed ideally to the human hand, vaguely in the shape of a very rounded and artistic "T", with grooves in both sides designed for fingers and thumb to easily grip.

Thumbing a switch produced a flat, holographic display hovering over the crossbars at the top, detailing his assigned unit (Grey and two other privates), a small map that depicted not only their destination but the most expedient route through the streets to reach it, and a brief textual description of the suspect. Tall but slim Caucasian male, long silver hair, black coat…shouldn't be too hard to spot. Why all this fuss over one man, though? What'd he do to get the CTDF on him?

Grey was discussing this very matter aloud with the other two privates (a young woman with hair cropped in a similar short style to the Captain's—perhaps in some vague attempt at emulation?—and a youth of middle-eastern complexion) as they approached their unit leader.

"So…" Alex began, glancing briefly to his readout again, "Grey, Stone and…" he frowned, hesitant to speak the name for fear of mispronunciation. "…Daoud?" The three nodded in turn, snapping to attention and lowering their own ComPads. "Alright. Have all of you checked our route and destination?" More nods from all sides. "Then let's get on it, I want us there yesterday!"

The groups began to break off, cluster by cluster, veering left and right to begin their individual routes. No doubt it was the Guardian of Ice who had planned the routes; they were too precise and methodical to have been done by anything but a computer. Whoever this poor fool was, he had apparently caught the Guardians of Crystal Tokyo on a bad night; they were pulling out all the stops to bring him down.

Sure enough, Alex and his unit found their route unobstructed, and were able to follow it to their destination point without incident. It was a rather pleasant little market street, actually, the old-style cobblestone streets preserved in a fashion over a millennium old, with canopied bistros and a souvenir shop overflowing with imitation antiques.

The waiting, now _that_ was the difficult part. Their instructions were to hold the position they had been assigned and only pursue if the suspect came within sight. He doubted it was likely that they had managed to outdistance the man, given the head start he had, but perhaps the Guardians were planning to chase him toward one of the planted groups.

Regardless, Alex sighed, sweeping the fingers of one white-gloved hand through his sandy hair, still vaguely mussed from his rude awakening. He hated waiting. The minutes stretched on, into what felt like hours. The incessant tapping of Stone's foot as she leaned back against the black railing of a bistro became like the ticking of a clock, and Alex found himself unconsciously counting the seconds in his head. Upon realizing it, he forced himself to stop, only to find himself doing it again moments later. Grey paced, in wide, ovoid patterns, stopping at the end of one arc to turn on a heel as though marching in formation. Daoud was the only one not moving at all, his eyes unfocused as though in meditative repose…however, he had unbuckled his sword-belt, clasping the sheath vertically before him in one hand, the crossbars level with his eyes and his free hand slowly curling its fingers around the grip and uncurling them in rhythm. He wasn't the only one at ready—all of them kept their hands at the ready near their weapons.

It had been difficult enough for the Neo-Queen's Guardians to convince her of the necessity of a military even in this new age of peace, but she had been adamant in her refusal to distribute firearms to them, favoring instead the use of blade and sorcery. Guns were not _banned_ in Crystal Tokyo—the Queen had spoken most firmly upon this in her public address, stating in an eloquent manner Alex could not hope to emulate that even such a ban would smack of tyranny, and that was a thing in which she would have no part—but they were strongly frowned upon and discouraged.

It was Daoud's apparent meditations that saved Alex, Stone and Grey—though they did little for the unfortunate man himself. Though his eyes widened, almost imperceptibly as a breath huffed from his nostrils, Daoud's saber did not even clear more than half its sheath before he was cut down, a flash of shocking redness spurting from his side as a dark-and-light blur whizzed past him. Stone was closest to him, and her eyes were wide with horror as the blood stained her fair face and even whiter uniform. The fallen man collapsed, dead before he hit the street, his weapon falling from limp fingers.

Soldiers though they were, they had never seen death first-hand—not even Alex, for all his seniority. No amount of training can prepare one for seeing a man die so quickly, so ruthlessly and mercilessly murdered, for precious little apparent reason.

Regardless, the three surviving unit members whirled upon their assailant, who had come to a stop in the midst of them after his prey fell.

The man was tall, one of the tallest Alex had ever seen, given that even hunched over slightly with his weapon extended, his head matched Alex's own height. There could be no mistaking their assigned target; his long, platinum-silver hair gleamed in the light of the crescent sliver of moon above, spilling down along his back to the backs of his knees. The only person with longer hair that Alex had ever heard of was the Queen, and it was rumored her golden locks were long enough to weave a tapestry with. The man's black coat was apparently his only attire other than his unremarkable black pants and boots, revealing no shirt beneath its open front; the only things crossing his chest were two black straps, held in place by silvery studs, that held the coat close to his frame. Of note was the symbol that stood out boldly from the center of the crossed straps, in the shape of a red-rimmed black heart with two scarlet lines crisscrossing its bulk; at the bottom, where there would normally have been a single point, it instead fanned out in two backward-sweeping crescents, with a single point emerging beneath them. The coat itself was adorned oddly, the outer forearms accentuated by red-streaked blade-like fins, and the trailing ends terminated in many jagged ends like a row of red-trimmed, caricatured teeth circling the backs of his legs.

However, there were two things that had not been mentioned in any report, something that kept Alex and his two remaining privates frozen in their tracks. The first was the man's sword, which even now continued to drip with Daoud's blood; the sword itself was of old Japanese make, its single edge sweeping in a gentle curve, its wielder's black-gloved hand guarded only by an elegantly carven ovoid shape rather than crossbars. However, its length surpassed even the height of the man who bore it by at least half a foot, stretching out mind-bogglingly long, and yet the swordsman still clasped it with effortless ease.

The second thing was the sweeping, black-feathered wing that fanned out imperiously from his back. Not wings. Wing. There was only one, its dark bulk casting eerie shadows over his pale features as it hovered over him from behind his right shoulder.

Slowly, the swordsman straightened to his full height, swiping his blade through the air so that the blood flecked from its surface to stain the streets. His free hand lifted in a beckoning gesture, and his previously emotionless visage curled into something horrid; a cold, unfeeling smirk, at the same time mocking and insultingly indulgent. He opened his mouth, and his soft, mild voice uttered a single taunting word.

"Come."

To Alex's great chagrin, before he could call out to stop her, Stone indulged him with hate in her eyes. Her sword, a weapon of the same make as the one-winged man's—if of more manageable length—flashed free of its sheath, glinting briefly in the light as she struck. Steel resounded off of steel, sparks scattered across the imitation cobblestones, as her blade was met by an impossibly fast movement of the attacker's, and with an elegantly dance-like spinning motion he circled around her and allowed her momentum to carry her past…and his single wing stretched to its fullest with a twitch, as he plunged his blade into her back and pulled it free in a single effortless motion. Stone didn't even realize she had been impaled until she stumbled to a halt, looking numbly at the redness blossoming at the front of her uniform…before she slowly sank to her knees, clutching at her chest.

Before she could even topple to the ground, both Alex and Grey were upon the man, standard long swords drawn and cutting through the air. Though the wicked blade lifted to block Grey's stroke, which had come first, Alex knew his blade would score on the preoccupied man.

…only the one-winged swordsman wasn't there when his shimmering steel came down, passing through a midnight-blue flash of light and a flurry of black feathers, before resounding sharply off the stones underfoot.

Alex had time to do no more than stumble backward from the recoil, before another forceful impact struck the air, close enough that he could _feel_ it in his bones. His eyes went wide, as he knew somehow what had happened. "Grey, down!"

But it was too late. In a blur of motion, the swordsman emerged from the second cloud of drifting black feathers, darting past Alex's friend with a rush of air. For a moment, an agonizing moment, Alex permitted himself a sliver of hope that somehow this incredible warrior had missed, that his friend would be okay…

…then, the line of red slowly formed directly along the circumference of Grey's throat. His expression was still blank with shock as his head toppled cleanly from his shoulders, his body slumping limply to the ground immediately after.

Despite himself, Alex stumbled away, panic gripping at him as the blood pooled from what remained of his three fellow soldiers…his three comrades, if only from the training field. This…this was impossible. This…this was no man, no human. This was a monster! A monster with cold, glowing blue eyes, his platinum-white hair somehow not stained with so much as a drop of the blood he had spilled.

Another disdainful swipe of his blade through the air flecked the blood from its length once again, so that it gleamed once more in the moonlight. Hardening his resolve, Alex clasped the grip of his sword in both hands, his feet slowly drawing apart and his shoulders tensing. This…demon, this monster, had killed them like it was nothing. He couldn't just be allowed to get away with that, whatever else his crimes may have been. "Detaining" him was out of the question—for that matter, so was arresting him.

Slowly, the man turned again, the sickeningly indulgent expression once more on his face as his fingers beckoned.

"Oh, you've _got_ it," he snarled despite himself, trying very hard not to look at the three dead bodies that had only seconds ago been full of life, full of personality. There would be time to be sick, to grieve, to _think_ later. "Here I come, you freak!" Briefly, his step faltered as the words echoed oddly in his brain, but he shrugged it off before it could distract him.

He released the blade with one hand as he charged, allowing the point to dip and draw up sparks from the street underfoot as it scraped the stones. However, this was no wild charge like Stone's…there was a reason they had been privates and he was a specialist.

Perhaps unaware of the distinction, or simply unconcerned, the dark-clad swordsman seemed faintly disgusted by the direct tactic, already drawing his sword back for a backhanded swipe to take Alex's head clean off…

…just like Grey's…

But Alex dove, rolling beneath the swing at the last minute, coming to his feet right in his opponent's face with a rising swing of his fist. The hand that caught his attempted haymaker seemed possessed of impossible strength, black leather creaking over the man's gloves as he squeezed oppressively tight on Alex's captive fist.

Refusing to give the man the satisfaction of hearing him cry out, refusing even to drop his sword, Alex bit back the sounds his throat was desperate to voice, bringing up his sword instead to try and drive into the man's middle. The swordsman wasn't there to meet the blade, having shoved away from the fist and darted back nimbly as a flea. His expression turned mildly irritated, his blade sweeping out to one side as his free hand lifted, palm turned up. Crimson sparks blossomed to life above his hand, swirling around his half-clutched fingers. "Out of my way," he intoned in a faintly echoing voice that brooked no argument. Alex realized, remotely, that it was starting to get very, very hot.

He fell, more than leaped backward as the cobblestones below his feet exploded in a roaring pillar of flame, one of three that surrounded the black-winged swordsman at triangular points directly and front and slightly behind to either side. Landing on his rump, Alex surged to his feet, just in time to see the flames beginning to thin out…

—and the swordsman leaped directly through what remained of them, his blade flashing again. It was instinct that saved Alex this time, his arm raising before his face in a base reflex as he staggered back. He hissed through his teeth in agony as the steel bit into his flesh, cleaving effortlessly through the uniform and flashing more blood across the streets. Before Alex could even think to retaliate, his opponent had darted back once again, well out of range, his brow furrowed in a frown that seemed the vaguest bit puzzled.

"…huh. You're still alive." If the man was impressed by this, it wasn't conveyed in his toneless words. Regardless, the CTDF specialist felt his face twisting into a bitter smirk. He'd surprised the bastard. That was something.

Now to go one better.

"You ain't seen nothin' yet!" Flipping his sword around point-down in his good hand (the other hanging painfully by his side), Alex drew it behind his back so the blade was level with his spine. His brow furrowed in concentration as he focused, his body tensing. He had to be quick about this, quicker than he ever had before, if he wanted to walk away from this at all—nevermind defeating this juggernaut!

He heard the subdued hum behind his back, saw his shadow lengthen in front as the light built up around the blade of his sword, causing it to gleam white. "I've been saving this for somebody like you…" he growled, eyes narrowing to slits. The man merely stood, his blade held down by his left hip as though in a sheathed stance, tensed to strike as well.

Alex blurred into motion first. "Light Wave _Blade!_" Lunging forward with a step, he brought the gleaming blade around in an upward arc that flipped it around upright in his hand again, and in its wake it left a dazzling shockwave of white light that seared along the ground, blazing a path across the distance to his foe. The sword, unable to withstand the strain of the unleashed power, exploded in a shower of white-hot steel shards that rained down around him. That was okay, though…he wouldn't be needing it after this.

But the man struck with the lightning quickness of a serpent, his sword flashing horizontally across the ground…and it actually _deflected_ the shockwave aside, sending it careening down the street a ways to explode against the façade of a small souvenir store.

There was no time for shock, for the next stroke scored across Alex's left leg just above the knee. The leg gave out on him almost immediately, more from shock than true disablement, but it was enough. A third, swipe, almost as though the black-winged warrior were painting a morbid portrait with his steel, bit into Alex's right shoulder. He twitched, spasmodically, finally unable to resist crying out as what remained of his sword clattered from limp fingers.

Finally, standing over him, the swordsman bent down low. His voice came again, a bare whisper. "You have amused me. Before you die, you shall know the name of your killer. There was a time when I was called…Sephiroth."

_Sephiroth._ It was a name he would remember all his life. All two remaining seconds of it.

Stepping back just the appropriate distance, Sephiroth raised his impossibly long sword, laying the flat briefly to Alex's bleeding shoulder. Slowly, he brought his arm across the body, levering the sword for a backhanded swipe. At least he was going to make it clean. Regardless, Alex squeezed his eyes shut reflexively, waiting for the end.

The end never came. The sound of the blade whispering through the air, just on the edge of hearing, was cut rudely off by the _ring_ of steel biting steel.

Alex's eyes snapped open and to the side, to see that the cold, merciless steel had been blocked mere inches short of its goal…by a slender blade of impossible composition, its oddly crystalline length radiating prismatic light from within, colors swirling in and around one another so that the blade constantly radiated a medley of rainbow colors. It was a blade he had only seen once before in his life, the day he and many of his fellows were inducted into the ranks of the CTDF.

It was the shimmering blade of _Lunar Harmonia_. The sword of the Queen herself, the blade that she had wielded to bring about the supposed era of peace in which they lived now. Legend and hearsay held that it had not been removed from its ceremonial chamber since the Palace had been erected, much like the Silver Crystal itself.

There was a brief moment of struggle, the silvery slightly-curved blade straining to complete its journey, but although _Lunar Harmonia_ wavered for but a moment, it remained unyielding and implacable, and even pushed the other sword away.

Sephiroth darted back once again, his eyes narrowed in true menace this time. This was someone for him to take seriously.

Alex felt his eyes go round and wide anew as he recognized the soft, unmistakable cadences of the voice that spoke from above and behind him. "You have something in your possession that does not belong to you. Return it."

Slowly, Sephiroth reached his free hand into the depths of his coat, his expression contorting again into one of mock-consolation. "I suppose you mean this." Nestled upon his hand, as it emerged from the coat, was the most dazzling thing Alex had ever laid eyes upon.

Stories had been told of the legendary Silver Crystal. Of how it radiated the light of a million colors, many of them undefined or even unrecognizable to human eyes, that blended together into its pale silvery shimmer. Of how its warmth could bring comfort even in the frozen wastes of the Antarctic. Of how its power could revive the life in a dead sun. A jewel of literally _limitless_ power, the source of the well-being, preternatural health and longevity of the people of Crystal Tokyo.

The stories didn't even begin to do justice to the priceless treasure that Sephiroth so carelessly handled, and Alex's eyes followed it unerringly despite the haze of pain and weariness as the dark swordsman tossed it idly up into the air and caught it again. So _this_ was why the army had been dispatched. This was why the Queen herself stood behind him, wielding a sword she had not touched in centuries.

However, Sephiroth's smug expression disappeared in an instant, as a pale, slender hand lifted itself into view in Alex's peripheral vision, palm upturned. The Neo-Queen did not utter her command again, but the light surrounding the Crystal took on a subtly different quality. Sephiroth actually flinched as tendrils of silvery energy, like lightning, sparked to life around the Crystal until he was forced to release it. It remained hovering in the air, unmoving, for a brief moment before slowly drifting across the distance to land in the hand of its true mistress once again. Her fingers closed around it with a slow surety, and then her sword lifted once more, its point replacing her hand in the corner of Alex's eye.

"Now be gone from this place," Neo-Queen Serenity pronounced in tones of finality. "If I see you again within the confines of my kingdom, you shall be destroyed."

Rather than displaying the proper reverence, however, Sephiroth only snorted disdainfully. His sword, he affixed to what appeared to be a small clip designed subtly into his coat, holding it in place at his left hip with no sheath. Then his arms slowly crossed, his single black wing fanning out its slightly ruffled feathers. "The deed has served its purpose, regardless. Welcome the Darkness into your kingdom, and into your heart, your Highness. You will save yourself and many others so much difficulty."

The Queen's answer was singular, resolute, and final. "Never."

Sephiroth spread his hands and shrugged, as though it were a matter of profound unconcern to him. "A pity. The Darkness will come, heiress of the Moon, regardless of your noble gestures. Pray it doesn't wash away those dear to you in its tide." With a snap of his fingers, Sephiroth vaulted straight _up_ and disappeared into the darkness of the night sky.

But his departure did not equate to safety. From all around, from the shadow that had begun to gather, to lengthen unnaturally during their exchange, pale glimmering lights began to appear, set apart in pairs just close enough to resemble eyes. Alex _knew_ he could see movement, knew it wasn't just his flagging strength causing his eyes to hallucinate. He could hear the sounds, chittering, shuffling, and some things even worse.

He struggled to surge to his feet. He would take up Grey's sword if he had to, with his own gone, to defend his surrounded and alone Queen. But his knee did not wish to cooperate, and his body was so sore…so tired…

It was her hand upon his shoulder—the uninjured one, this time—that halted him, the precious Crystal shifted elsewhere for the time being, though he could still feel its warm light bathing him from behind. He couldn't see her face, but he could hear the soft, gentle smile in her voice, feel it in the hand that stroked sweat-plastered hair back off his brow as she soothed, "Stay your hand, soldier. You have earned your rest, so sleep soundly. You will be safe…"

He was positive he could detect a kind of grim determination seeping into her words at the last, but her voice was so soothing, the light so comforting, that all he could do was succumb to her will and sag to blissful unconsciousness in the street.

It dimly occurred to him as he drifted off that he had missed what was very probably the one chance in his life to see the Queen's face up close, a chance many would have given their kidneys for.

That just figured, didn't it?


	3. 2 Those who Lack Hearts

_Re-uploaded to hopefully fix some formatting issues...maybe will finally work with me without eating my italics. Also, have a free next chapter uploaded, as well, just in case it might garner some constructive critique!_

2. Those Who Lack Hearts

By the time the other searching Soldiers—Mars, Jupiter and Neptune—had arrived, the battle was over. The three sailor-suited women came upon their Queen standing amidst a pile of bodies and blood, her treasured sword clasped in her right hand and the Silver Crystal shining majestically cupped in her left. Though the only lingering bodies were human (four soldiers of the Crystal Tokyo Defense Force by their uniforms), scars of the battle in the street heralded the presence of the same shadowy creatures that had detained their individual searches.

Even as the last of them touched down, Neptune's elegant heels clicking on the stones as she dropped from the rooftops above (and managed somehow not to sprain an ankle in the process), Serenity strode regally from the face-down body over which she'd been standing as though protecting it, using the tip of her sword to spear a scrap of purplish material that lay upon the ground after the battle and raise it into visibility.

Sure enough, etched upon its surface—even as it began to deteriorate when exposed to the purifying light from both the Silver Crystal and the sword _Lunar Harmonia_—was the same crest that had visible at least somewhere on most of the black creatures, a stylized black heart rimmed with red, crossed out by ominous red bands that formed an "X".

Serenity flicked away the tatters that remained of the strange material with apparent disgust, deftly flipping her sword in her hand so that she held it point-down, and allowing its tip to touch the cobblestones like a cane. Her fingers idly ran over the curve of the crescent-shaped hilt guard that curved up from its handle toward the point, one cusp just barely touching two inches above the base of the blade, the other jutting out aggressively to one side. Clasping the retrieved Crystal to her heart, her gaze swept over the scene with a look of profound regret, as a small sigh escaped her.

Jupiter was the one who spoke first, picking her way across the carnage and forcing herself not to look at the bodies—particularly the beheaded one. "Are they…all…?"

The Queen shook her head, slowly, returning to the side of the man over which they had found her, her two impossibly long tails of hair swaying elegantly against the skirt of her gown. "Not this one. Not only did he survive, but somehow I suspect he might…be…"

The others watched her intently as she hesitated. Though she had seemingly changed outwardly, since the old days when she had lead them directly, beneath the brittle surface was still the person they had called a friend, and all present knew it. Here away from the presence of outsiders, no one bowed a cowed head before her, instead watching her evenly. Vaguely uncomfortable, she simply kneeled, laying the sword carefully upon the stones for the moment, and carefully heaved the young man over onto his back.

It took a moment for recognition to set in, but when it did two stifled gasps heralded its arrival. Neptune did not react with shock, however, simply folding her arms and furrowing her delicate brow. "Surely you don't think…" she began, but her monarch shook her head and looked up at the three without standing.

"There is little doubt in my mind. I saw him hurl a wave of Light at the thief."

"Venus will be—" Jupiter started, but the Queen cut her off again.

"No," she said, shaking her head slowly as she retrieved her sword and slowly rose to her feet. "Not yet, at least. Not until we're sure."

"Huh." Mars recovered her aplomb with predictable businesslike manner, folding her arms beneath her chest. "That's all well and good, but what about the thief?"

"Escaped. But he did not get what he was after." Serenity hefted the precious Crystal once again, letting its light cleanse away the last lingering traces of the dark things she had fought.

"_If_ that's all he was after," Mars prompted, her fine brow creasing beneath her inky bangs. "Who knows what else he got away with? It would take a total idiot to try and steal the Silver Crystal, maybe it was just a diversion to draw attention away from something _else_ he stole."

"If that is the case, then we will discover it soon enough. He is gone now, and no amount of bickering, nor fretting, will change that." To the surprise of all, it was Neptune who had spoken, not the Queen, her hand planted upon her hip as she surveyed the surroundings. "You three should return to the Palace. I'll worry about the clean-up, and have this one taken to the medical ward." She gestured to the injured soldier, his shallow breathing indicative that he was the only living body amidst the carnage.

Though reluctant on principle, none of the three put up much more than token resistance to her offer. It had been a long time since any of them had seen such brutally efficient violence, and between the attacks by shadow-creatures and the attempted theft, they were worried for the safety of the Palace.

- - -

_Above upon the safety of the rooftop, concealed from view of the three arriving Sailor Soldiers by a shroud of billowing, living darkness, two figures had watched the exchange silently. The shorter, more slender of the two did not look over his shoulder to the companion who stood just behind and to his left, as he spoke._

"_Your estimation, Sephiroth?"_

_The one-winged swordsman, towering over his shorter companion by at least half a head, idly tightened his gloves one at a time so that they creaked against his wriggling fingers as he spoke. "The soldiers are nothing. Lesser shadows can be trusted to deal with them, in sufficient numbers." The tactic of overwhelming was a favorite of the shadows. They would be pleased to hear it encouraged. "And the Sailor Soldiers are easily misled and distracted. Direct assault upon them is idiocy, but attack those around them and they will undoubtedly crumble."_

"_What about the soldier who delayed you?" the silhouette before him spoke, his voice quiet and mild. "You would have gotten away with the Crystal if you'd killed him as quickly as the others."_

"_An irritation, nothing more. The Crystal would have done us no good, anyway. Its light repels the shadows." The unspoken "I-told-you-so" in the platinum-haired warrior's words went unacknowledged._

_The smaller figure turned, brushing imperiously past the larger Sephiroth without further word. A silvery brow quirking, Sephiroth did not turn as he spoke. "Where are you going?"_

_The youth lifted his right hand level with his face, fingers slowly closing one by one so his own leather glove creaked. "To have a little chat with someone."_

_As he continued to walk away, Sephiroth waited a long moment in silence before speaking again. "That Rune will only protect you from the Darkness for so long." The smaller figure stopped in his tracks, feet still tensed as though to continue walking. "It's sheer arrogance to think that you can control the shadows for long. Eventually they will consume you."_

"…_worry about your own hide," came the disdainful reply, and Sephiroth said nothing more as his companion disappeared, instead watching as the aqua-haired Soldier kneeled again to check the vitals of the unconscious young man on the ground._

- - -

Saturn sat perched upon the great wall surrounding the Crystal Palace, with her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms draped around them, the Silence Glaive that was her hallmark nestled in the crook of her arm and towering over her.

She had aided the Soldiers Venus, Mercury and Uranus in the defense of the Palace block, when the shadows had suddenly come to life and begun attacking anything in sight. She had seen one of them attack one of the CTDF soldiers from behind, thrusting a distended hand into the man's back without puncturing, as though his body were made of liquid—and from the front of his chest had been shoved a shimmering crystalline "heart" with a red light pulsing within its center. Letting the limp form fall, the black creature had greedily snatched the heart and devoured it whole, though swallowing it seemed to do nothing for the beast's ravening hunger. As it had skittered off on all fours, the fallen man's body simply...dematerialized, dissolving into tiny glimmering motes of light that slowly drifted into the sky.

The attack had ceased as suddenly as it had begun, the shadows simply receding. Creatures had ceased pouring from the darkness, and once the last had been cut down all was silence once again.

Silence. It was supposed to be her domain, that over which she held dominion, that which gave her power. But she hated silence. Silence meant there was no one around who cared, whether it was love or even hate.

She closed her amethyst eyes against the cold, ominous breeze that flowed over the top of the wall, bringing with it the scent of death. The attack had happened in the streets as well, she was told. They had wanted her to go inside, especially Haruka-papa—Uranus—but, while still on the frail side, she was not the same fragile and sickly child she had once been. And if the shadows rose up to attack again, her power was best suited to destroy them all at once without losing more precious lives.

Saturn didn't realize she had fallen asleep until her chin jerked up from her chest, snapping back to alertness with a start as something made the tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickle. In a heartbeat, she was on her feet, Silence Glaive in hand and cutting through the air with practiced ease.

The curved blades (certain of the Sailor Soldiers liked to joke that it vaguely resembled a grandiose can opener for the ultimate soda) rebounded smartly off metal with a resounding ring, but Saturn did not lose her precarious balance upon the wall, twirling the staff-like weapon around her body until it came to a stop defensively before her.

The youth standing before her could not have been much older than sixteen years (her own physical age), and for a male his build was startlingly slight. Though not girlish, as some of the men she'd seen the Princess fawn over, he was clearly just below average in mass for his age. His clothing was unremarkable, a simple sleeveless white shirt with a folded-down collar, casually loose black pants tucked into sleek black-patent boots, and his hands were sheathed by darkly tanned leather gloves. His hair, dark as her own, was just longish enough that the breeze could sweep it out of his flat, colorless eyes.

More remarkable, however, was the weapon that had stayed her own, clasped in his hands with the ease of familiarity. It was a scythe, an ominous black-bladed implement that seemed nearly as much machine as simple weapon, its surface riddled with odd tubing and even what appeared to be gears. It was almost like something she'd have expected to see in one of Mercury's laboratories…save for the wicked black blade, serrated along the back near its point, that nevertheless managed to gleam somehow in the moonlight. The youth held it oddly upside-down in his hands, the blade near his feet with its wicked hook curving menacingly upward.

Slowly, her indigo boots slid apart, one behind her and one before her in a posture of readiness. "Who are you?" she demanded, her soft voice nevertheless brooking no guff.

However, despite her aggressive posture, the youth simply walked his odd weapon along the back of his hand so that it completed a full three-hundred-sixty degree revolution, and then he shouldered it casually and quite passively, the wickedly hooked blade draping back over his shoulder.

He appeared to ignore her question, however. "You did well to survive. Many don't live through their first assault. Whole worlds have fallen in the first hours alone."

Saturn's eyes narrowed, dangerously, power beginning to gather about the blades of her weapon in the form of crackling black lightning. "This world has defenders who will not submit," she stated plainly, as though proclaiming that the moon would rise.

"You say that without knowing what you fight. That's the mark of folly. Childish optimism will not stop them." The youth turned to present his profile to her, facing the city outside the wall and turning his eyes up to the sliver of visible moon.

"And what do you know of this enemy?" Saturn pressed, not lowering her glaive, though the power flickering around its head subsided…for now. "You seem to have survived the night intact. And you seem to think you know them."

The boy closed his eyes, a deep sigh swelling his relatively small frame and then contracting it again. "They are ravenous hunters. Their home is the Darkness, they thrive in it, flourish in it, and in turn they spread it wherever they go. They are those who lack hearts, and so they forever seek to devour the hearts of others, though no heart has ever satisfied their hunger." Slowly, his colorless eyes opened again and drifted over to her, his expression perfectly neutral. "They are the Heartless, and they have come to devour the heart of this world."

Finally, Saturn lowered her glaive. Though there was a kind of unnerving darkness about him, it was no greater than that she knew lay within herself, deep down, an inescapable part of who she was. She could not fault another for that, and she sensed no malice from this boy. "How do you know all this?"

Again, the youth turned away, this time presenting his back to her as he slowly strode along the top of the wall. He stopped a few steps away, transferring his scythe to his left hand and shoulder, and raising his right hand to slowly tighten his fist until the leather glove creaked. "I can feel the Darkness in your heart, subdued though it is. They can as well. It will draw them to you, and they will strive to consume you. Don't let them…" Without answering her question, he turned and vaulted from the wall in a blink. Though she ran to the place from which he had jumped, when Saturn turned to gaze out into the darkened city streets she could see no sign of him.

She hadn't even gotten to ask his name…

- - -

"No. Absolutely not!"

"Minako, _please_…" Ami implored, plucking her broad, wire-framed eyeglasses from the bridge of her nose, folding the arms and hooking one into the pocket of her pristine white lab-coat. "This is very important."

They were gathered within the main council room of the Crystal Palace, the Neo-Queen Serenity and all eight of highest appointed officials of state, her closest confidantes…and, most importantly of all, her friends.

Of course, only six of them occupied chairs. But the center of the circular table boasted a most spacious and comfortable cushion that more than adequately seated the Queen's two feline advisors, white and black as ebony and ivory. It was also the only way they could remain on eye level and thus command a proper level of attention at these gatherings.

Of the remaining six, three of them wore the standard, crisp white uniform of the Crystal Tokyo Defense Force. Or, perhaps it would be more accurate to say, Haruka Tenoh and Makoto Kino wore the standard white uniform of the CTDF.

Minako Aino, true to form, had commissioned some…slight modifications to her uniform. The neatly pressed white pants were replaced with a chic white skirt, bordered with neat gold trim, slitted up the sides just enough to inspire intrigue without coming across too risqué. After the brief gap that exposed tantalizing leg, a pair of high-heeled white boots started just shy of her knees. Above the waist, the uniform was little different than its counterparts…save that Minako chose to accentuate the look with a tasteful white beret. Completing the ensemble, the large red bow that usually held her flowing waves of gilded hair in check behind her head had been replaced by a white bow, to match the uniform.

Ami Mizuno, heading up both the science _and_ medical wings of the Palace despite protests from the Queen in the interests of halving her work-load, was dressed in a manner that was both conservative, and yet left no question of her twin occupations, her sterile lab-coat covering a casual but pleasing olive-colored blouse and pressed blue pants. Rei Hino's red and white shrine robes were a familiar presence at council meetings, as were Michiru Kaioh's distinctly professional-looking, yet still tasteful ensembles that might have looked more at home in a twentieth-century courtroom or law firm than in the quartz-like halls of the Crystal Palace. As the royal Shrine Maiden and the third Royal Advisor, they completed the Planetary Council save for one empty chair, a gaping space next to the Queen's throne.

No one occupied the King's seat while he was out of the kingdom on business.

Minako, currently, was about to lose her beret in addition to her cool. At Ami's persistent request, she had thrust to her feet, her crystalline chair sliding back across the floor and threatening to tip over as her white-gloved hands planted themselves hard upon the tabletop. "I know why you want it, I _do_ keep track of Palace events, after all. Why do you want _that_, of all things? It's not yours to give, I don't care if he _did_ save the Silver Crystal. Give him a medal like anybody else!"

For the Nth time since the previous night's attack, surreptitious glances were exchanged amidst the Sailor Soldiers and their Queen, excluding the blue-eyed blonde in very indignant question.

At last, it was the Neo-Queen herself who spoke, her soft voice like a steel gauntlet sheathed in a velvet glove. "I do not wish to make of this a royal decree, Major Aino, but if I must then that is what I shall do."

The look in Minako's eyes as she glared across the table at her Queen was laced with enough venom to kill three grown men. The Queen had stared down that monster who called himself Sephiroth without batting an eyelash, but she flinched from the hateful look in her dear friend's eyes, averting her gaze. "Go get it, Minako. I know it's in your quarters."

Angry moisture building above her lower lids, Minako's fingers curled almost claw-like against the smooth surface of the table for a moment. Her chair _did_ tip over as she stormed away from the table, toward one of the three exit doors from the council chamber. Stopping in the doorway, she didn't look over her shoulder as she spoke. "I never thought I would see the day that the crown went to your head, Usagi. Guess I was wrong."

The door slammed hard behind her, and the collective tension in the room evaporated…leaving in its wake uncomfortable silence. Serenity let out a soft, faint sigh that echoed the sentiments of all present.

"Was that _really_ necessary, your Highness?" The voice of Luna, the black cat perched regally upon the velvety cushion with a golden crescent emblem upon her forehead, was mildly disapproving.

Despite the discomfort evident in her expression and demeanor, the Queen did not back down. "I believe it was, Luna. The only way we can truly confirm is for her to see him for herself. Otherwise we risk raising her hopes only to crush them once again. I would prefer for her to hate me now and thank me later than to see her misery redoubled."

"But if it _isn't_ him," Artemis, Luna's mellow white-furred counterpart began, "then you've just seriously hurt her for no reason. I don't think she hates you, your Highness…I don't know if she can hate anyone. But…"

Michiru spoke up in Serenity's defense, to her surprise. "I saw him, myself. I did not see him exhibit the power the Queen speaks of, but—"

"_I_ have," Haruka interrupted, with a small smile of apology to her partner. "He's one of the specialists of my division. He's never…really stood out from the ranks, but I can confirm that he wields the power of Light in small measure. And I checked the roster—his name _is_ the same, though that means little on its own."

"Unfortunately, the medical division has been swamped with patients since the attack last night." Ami plucked her glasses from her coat's breast pocket and settled them in place upon the bridge of her nose. "And between tending the worst cases in the medical wards and attempting to study the material samples left by the creatures last night, I haven't been able to see him myself. Apparently his injuries were not severe."

"Regardless of who he may or may not be," Michiru spoke up again, her tone even and rational, "the fact remains that he was the only soldier to cross paths with the thief and live. The Queen's 'award ceremony' will also be the perfect opportunity to question him."

" 'Question him'?" Makoto perked a mahogany eyebrow, her gloved fingertips drumming upon their reflections in the silvery surface of the table. "You sound like you plan to pull his fingernails out with pliers."

Haruka's subtle smirk was wry, but there was amused irony to it. At least, her companions _hoped_ it was irony. "If it comes to that, we just might."

"The creatures last night did not appear until after he lost consciousness, but he may be able to tell us something about the thief," Serenity supplied, steepling her fingers in front of her upon the table.

Finally, Rei spoke for the first time since the meeting had convened. "It may be the only way we'll find out anything. When I attempted to scry for him, the fire went out. Three times, without fail."

The Queen sighed, wearily, her hands lifting to slowly press her first two fingers to her temples. "This is madness. As if the attempted theft itself were not enough cause for concern, now we must live in fear of the very shadows?"

"Somehow I don't think so, your Highness," Ami spoke up, clearing her throat softly and adjusting her glasses with a forefinger and thumb. The Queen's radiant blue eyes opened again, turning curiously upon the oldest of her friends.

"I was still trying to confirm when the meeting was called," the royal scientist and physician continued, folding her hands together atop the table, "but I _believe_ that the creatures exerted a great deal of power during their initial assault, whether it was to cover the thief's tracks or to probe the Palace defenses—or simply because they had underestimated our capacity to resist. Regardless, as I hope to confirm within the day, I believe that it will be some time before they have gathered the strength before another such assault, provided they are willing to commit to another such effort after the initial failure."

"So, be on the lookout for subtlety," Michiru simplified with a terse nod, briefly meeting the eyes of those present. The second empty chair at the table gave all of them pause, but Serenity spoke before anyone else could.

"Regardless of the award ceremony's outcome, I will apologize to Major Aino and explain what we have concluded, this afternoon. I thank all of you for your time and opinions, my friends. This council is concluded."

Though they all still considered her to be a friend, none was willing to question her with that look in her azure eyes.

- - -

_Sephiroth…_

The name had echoed in his mind since he had awoken in the sterile, stifling medical ward of the Crystal Palace. The name of that monster, that _devil_, accompanied by flashes of blood, the grating of steel against steel…and the faces of three eager, brave young privates who would never join him in the mess hall again.

_Sephiroth…damn you…_

Nothing so horrible could possibly be human. There had been no remorse, no _humanity_ in those glimmering green eyes. He had not only cleaved them down without remorse, he had _enjoyed_ it. The demon had found it amusing!

_Sephiroth…damn you…I'll _kill_ you…_

He, himself, had been crushed ignominiously, his attacks laughed off like a child's feeble efforts. Though Sephiroth had been mildly surprised by his survival of the initial onslaught, he'd shown nothing but contempt for Alex's attempts to actually attack him.

_Sephiroth, if it's the last thing I do…_

"I'll _kill_ you!" He flung himself to sit up in the bed, his eyes snapping open, cold sweat beading his brow and soaking his hair and shirt as his hand reached blindly for nothing.

The stifled gasp next to his bedside made him jump, as startled as the figure seated near the side of the bed. Alex turned, his mindlessly clutching hand lifting awkwardly to rake his fingers through his soaked sandy hair.

Sitting beside the bed was a young girl, no older than her mid teens, with inky hair that fell loose and wispy to frame her face, just shy of her shoulders. Her amethyst eyes were wide, presumably from the rude awakening on his part, but her hands (sheathed in black gloves that neatly complemented her modest and conservative black dress) were partially lifted with her fingers spread.

"Ahm…sorry…" he muttered awkwardly, his hand sliding to the back of his neck as he frowned. "I didn't mean to startle you. …have we met?" He hadn't been expecting any visitors. His family wasn't even aware of his injury yet, he was sure, given that they lived across town on the very fringe of the royal capital. And the capital was not a small city.

The young girl shook her head, settling back down into her chair as her delicate brow furrowed. "No. I apologize if I am intruding, but I have been trying to do my part to help the injured." Her fingers flexed slightly before folding upon her lap, and Alex realized belatedly that the pain in his formerly throbbing knee was all but gone. He wouldn't know for certain until he removed the bandages, but…

"No, you're fine," he stopped her hastily, trying on a hint of his own smile. "It's just…been a long night."

The girl nodded, tipping her head, and then she lifted her gloved hand. "My name is Hotaru. Hotaru Tomoe. I possess a small measure of talent with healing magics, and so I have been attempting to help curb the lesser injuries while the doctors are occupied."

"I'm Alex…" Even as he introduced himself, Alex frowned, lifting his hands to probe his injured left arm and right shoulder from the night before. The pain was all but gone, and what was more, he could detect no further injuries than the ones Sephiroth had inflicted personally.

_Sephiroth…_

He caught himself before his gaze could contort with hatred once again. The last thing he remembered had been…the Queen…

"The Queen! Is she alright?"

Hotaru blinked, somewhat taken aback. Then, her head slowly tipped to the side, her dark hair spilling across her shoulder. "Are you the one who fought the thief of the Silver Crystal?"

Alex frowned. What, was it news already? Before he could speak, though, Hotaru went on.

"Not only were you the only soldier to survive the thief's attacks, but your injuries were relatively minor. The Queen protected you from the Hea…" she trailed off, delicate brow creasing again, but she quickly continued, "from the creatures who attacked last night. She is fine, and the Crystal is back where it belongs. In fact, there is an award ceremony planned for you later." At his lifted eyebrows, she visibly suppressed a laugh with her hand over her mouth. "Perhaps I should not have been the one to tell you. But it was thanks to your efforts that the thief was delayed long enough to be cornered. If you hadn't stalled him, even to the point of being injured in the line of duty, he would have escaped with the Silver Crystal. Alex, you are a hero."

_I'm not a hero…_ The words echoed in his brain, not of his own volition, as she spoke her praise. Quickly, he shook it off.

"I, uh…I see. I was only doing my duty, and I would have been killed myself if it wasn't…if it wasn't for…" _Grey… Grey, Stone and Daoud. _That devil had killed them first, that was the only reason Alex was still alive. If Alex had been standing where Grey had been, Grey would have been the one who had outlasted Sephiroth's wrath, attending an award ceremony for saving the city's priceless treasure. Probably would have been promoted straight up to specialist.

Seeing him troubled, Hotaru leaned forward a bit in her seat, her small hand gently patting the back of his hand. "I'm sure they will come to call for you, soon. You may want to act surprised, though."

Her head lifted, slightly, as the sound of a high-pitched feminine voice could be heard from beyond the curtain that walled Alex's bed off from his neighbors, calling her name. Hotaru turned, an amused smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Coming, Usagi!" Facing Alex again for a moment, she gave a tiny bow, in true fashion of Japanese culture, and then she pushed back from her small guest chair and gathered up her skirts, to scurry out of the small area.

He didn't have to wait long before Hotaru's prediction proved correct. He was sitting up against the smooth crystalline headboard of the bed, idly picking at the bandaging wrapped around his left arm (as much as he appreciated Hotaru's efforts, his freshly healing wounds were itching something awful, and efforts to scratch through the wrappings had proven futile), when the curtain next to his bed rustled. His head lifted with a frown.

Nobody there. His brow furrowed, eyes narrowing. He could see the curtain swaying still, but its rings had not slid upon the hanger that held it in place. He dismissed it after but a moment, however, shunting it to the back of his mind as a simple coincidental brush against it from the other side, and turned his attention back to the business of trying to un-bandage his arm.

It was a blur of spontaneous white motion that jerked him from the task this time, his eyes snapping their widest as he lurched back against the headboard with a yelp. The back of his head _klunked_ soundly against the top bar of the headboard, and he flinched forward with a groan, rubbing back of his sore head. "…the hell…?"

Sitting on its haunches upon the bed, between his covered knees, was a long-tailed white cat, with strikingly intelligent gray eyes and a golden crescent emblem standing out boldly from its forehead. Clasped gingerly between its teeth was an unembellished white envelope, with nothing more written upon it than his name in simple ink script.

Frowning, he plucked the envelope from the mouth of the cat, who sat patiently on its haunches but watched him intently. "Huh. This is for me, is it?"

The cat said nothing, understandably, simply watching him in wait—though he thought he could detect a hint of impatience in its gaze.

"Okay, okay!" he placated wryly, struggling to rip into the envelope without tearing its contents. The note inside was scrawled in a less austere hand; this was no form-letter, the ink was not yet dry.

_Alex_

_Specialist Fourth Class_

_Division Six,_

_By Royal decree, you are bidden to appear before a gathering of the Royal Family and its Sailor Soldiers posthaste. We realize that the battle of the previous night was a wearying ordeal; We convey Our sincerest apologies for rousing you from your recovery. However, it is imperative that you stand before Us within the hour. The cat who delivered this message, Artemis, will show you the way. If you follow him out of the medical ward you will not be detained._

_In my own hand_

_S_

Alex furrowed his brow, looking back and forth between the note and the white cat, who continued to stare at him intently. The note didn't say anything about the _reason_ for this…request. No mention of the award ceremony Hotaru had mentioned. He gulped, anxiously. _…hope this is about all that trying to scratch the walls._

"So, um…Artemis?" The cat perked up slightly, his ears twitching forward at attention. Alex hesitated, and then simply folded the letter back up and tucked it into the envelope again. "…lead the way?"

Artemis needed no further prompting, bounding off the bed instantly. Alex rose a little more hesitantly, still not aware of the extent to which Hotaru Tomoe's healing had progressed. He chafed, inwardly, at the idea of having to stand before a royal Council in the sleeveless black undershirt from his CTDF uniform and a pair of general-issue trousers (even setting aside the somewhat mussed bandages), but the white cat barely gave him enough time to stuff his feet into his boots before bounding away.

Though he didn't _quite_ have to jog to keep up with Artemis, the cat-messenger set an unrelenting pace, keeping Alex moving at a steady clip. Thankfully, true to the letter, what few members of the medical staff made as though to stop him, balked instantly at a single look from Artemis, and he was allowed to progress unimpeded.

The medical ward gave way to the quartz-like corridors of the Crystal Palace, the reflective floors echoing the sounds of Alex's boot-falls down the otherwise empty corridors, the cat's padding paws making literally no sound as he glided along. Since moving to the Palace block to sign up for the military, Alex had seen nothing of the Palace interior itself beyond the barracks, the courtyard and the training fields. It all seemed so barren and empty, though that could well have been due to the bustle of activity in the medical ward. Where had all those injured come from? Had Sephiroth cut down that many—? No, Hotaru had said something about Alex being the only soldier who had survived contact with Sephiroth. Perhaps it was related to the creatures he had seen, just before falling unconscious.

He permitted himself a wash of relief that the Queen seemed well. Of course, the tales about her were as legendary as the Silver Crystal and _Lunar Harmonia_ themselves. But the dark things he had seen…

Regardless, she was evidently well enough to head up a council meeting. One before which he was to appear.

Had Hotaru been mistaken about the award ceremony? He knew rumors had a tendency to circulate, especially amongst the nobility, and there had been no mistaking Hotaru Tomoe's air of nobility. She was doubtless a part of the Neo-Queen's court, from her bearing and dress alone. It would not have been a great stretch to imagine her hearing word of a meeting arranged with a grunt soldier and stepped to a hasty conclusion.

After all, he had been completely ineffectual against Sephiroth. He hadn't even scratched the man's face; in fact, he had been defeated ignominiously.

At last, they stood before the doors to what Alex could only presume to be her Majesty's main audience chamber. The doorframe formed a high, sweeping arch, the crystal blocks that rimmed it etched with the sigils of the Nine Planetary Soldiers, each one glowing faintly in a different hue, appropriate to the Soldier it represented. From the keystone gleamed a golden crescent emblem, its cusps pointed proudly upward, mirroring the symbol upon Artemis' forehead.

The cat in question paused, looking up at him expectantly. Alex frowned when he realized that nothing was happening, looking down in turn. He could have sworn he saw the cat's eyebrows drawing together in vague irritation.

Belatedly, it occurred to him that a cat could not open a closed door, particularly not one so heavy.

Awkwardly, he lifted a hand to touch the door. He could see no handle, only a series of symbols that reflected those on the arch-stones etched into the wood, though they lacked the glow of the crystal carvings. His awkwardly fumbling fingers found their way to the crescent moon carved into the center of the heavy door. As his fingers brushed the simple but elegant curves of the symbol, the very wood alit with a glimmering golden glow.

Alex jerked his hand back as if burned, though there had been no pain or even warmth from it. As the light shimmered steadily, a seam began to manifest itself along the very center of the semi-oval of the door, releasing shafts of soft light as the wood began to slide apart and recede into the arch-frame to either side.

Strangely, at first, all that was visible was a field of impenetrable white light beyond the doors, revealing not so much as the vaguest silhouette inside. It was not until the doors were completely open and he began to slowly, tentatively step inside that the light faded and revealed the interior of the chamber.

Like the rest of the Palace, the décor consisted largely of quartz-like, semitransparent crystal. The audience chamber appeared to be circular in layout, its walls crystalline walls smooth and unbroken, not marred by so much as a facet. Though the crystal architecture was somewhat see-through, within its depths it faded to a deep, tranquil shade of blue, much like gazing into a frozen body of water. The floors, the circular wall and the ceiling all matched this scheme, broken only by a plush magenta carpet that stretched from the door in a direct path to a circular patch in the center of the room. Positioned in a semicircle around the round patch of gold-tasseled magenta were eleven carved-crystal chairs, stretching down the sides of the carpet so that they formed a kind of cul-de-sac within the center of the room.

It was an unnerving thought, being surrounded by the most powerful forces in the kingdom. Especially given that every chair was occupied with the exception of the chairs marked with the signs of Pluto and Venus, and the one by the Queen's left side marked with a stylized depiction of the Earth upon its back. This time, Alex found himself fighting back a mild sense of disappointment to see the Venus chair vacant. The golden-haired, blue-eyed Soldier of Love had caught his eye (and the eyes of many others, no doubt) on more than one occasion. _Not sure whether to envy the soldiers in her division or not._ Artemis preceded him into the room, pausing at the center to gaze at the Venus chair with a note of what Alex could have sworn was anxiety…and then bounding up into it, to curl up upon the seat himself.

Regardless, seven sailor-suited females of varying ages sat proud and regal in their stately crystal chairs…and at the very back of the room, sitting tall and resplendent in a chair whose high back was actually shaped in a manner to suggest a crescent moon, was the Neo-Queen herself.


	4. 3 One Who Bears The Light

3. One Who Bears the Light

It was the first time he had seen her closer than from the audience at a public assembly, the first time he'd ever stood on eye level with her. Neo-Queen Serenity was the picture of elegant beauty. Her white gown, beginning just below her fragile-looking collarbones, flowed down her willowy frame with deceptively simple grace, pooling around her feet in a pile of snowy fabric large enough to suggest a significant excess even when she stood. Aside from the pastel rose-hued fabric at the back of her dress, styled to give the subtle impression of fae-like wings, the Queen needed no ornamentation in her attire to command respect and awe; her demeanor and presence alone spoke for her. Her visage was cherubic, mature and yet possessed of a kind of preternatural innocence that made the stylized "wings" seem all the more appropriate. Her hair was gathered atop her head, evenly spaced apart over her ears, in two spherical knots, each of which trailed into a long, flowing tail that flowed down along her sides and dangled to rest in coils upon her skirt. Even when standing, they would clearly fall at least to her ankles. The only adornments she boasted were the bejeweled little half-crown that nestled in her golden hair, two golden crescent earrings that dangled from each ear—and a symbol shining softly from the very skin of her brow, the ever pervasive golden crescent moon, the very symbol that adorned the brow of her feline messenger, the door and arch of the audience chamber, and the shoulder of the CTDF uniform. The royal crest—so this was its origin.

In the seat to her right, its back appropriately lower and shaped in a manner similar to the rest, was a Sailor Soldier he did not recognize. Her resemblance to the Queen was unmistakable; the similar style of her blindingly pink hair (two vaguely conical knots of hair atop her head, trailing down into twin tails that framed her in her seat) might have been taken as simple hero(ine) worship, but the fae-like facial features, the large, innocent eyes and even her bearing suggested more. _…the Princess? _She's_ a…?_ There was no mistake when they were sitting side-by-side like that. The spell that concealed the Sailor Soldiers' identities was strong, but easily broken in the right circumstances, and in the current age few of them took great pains to hide themselves. She appeared roughly the correct age, between fifteen and seventeen, and her red, white and blue _fuku_, much more elaborate and ornamental than the rest, was proudly decorated in multiple places—including the setting in her tiara where the others each bore a colored stone—with golden crescent emblems. With a start, he noticed something that had failed to leap to his notice immediately, a pale gray ball of fluff curled up in her lap, on which one of her white-gloved hands lightly rested. A subtle shift of the fluff-ball revealed a small golden crescent emblem; a third cat, it seemed, snoozing quite contently.

Despite his injuries (which, all told, caused more trouble due to itching than to pain), Alex kept his shoulders high and his bearing straight as he strode down the carpet, passing between the two lines of chairs facing him. He still felt conspicuous, self-conscious, almost naked standing before the most powerful gathering in the civilized world in nothing more than the cast-offs from his ripped and bloodied uniform, bandages still plain on his left forearm and right shoulder, but at least he managed not to limp. Upon reaching the center of the circle, standing an appropriately reverent distance from his Queen, he snapped to attention and raised his hand in formal military salute.

"Specialist Fourth Class Alex, Division Six, reporting as requested, Majesty." His steely posture and features wavered, however, a nervous bead of sweat creeping down his temple as he added under his breath, "…eh-heh, this isn't about me trying to scratch the walls, is it? Because if it is, there's a perfectly logical explanation for that."

A sharp look he could _feel_ before he could see, three chairs to his left, told him that was not what this gathering was about before the Queen could speak. "I look forward to hearing it," Sailor Uranus stated with deadly earnest. Alex swallowed. Hard. He snapped back into his crisp salute, struggling to conceal his anxiety with formality.

Thankfully, the Queen's look was one of mild, subdued amusement, though there was something…else he could not pin down. He was careful to control his bemused expression, maintaining that stiff and formal salute.

"Be at ease, soldier." Her voice, when she spoke, hardly sounded as though it could have been produced by mere human vocal chords—but he had seen her mouth move, regardless, and though it had not been spoken in tones of command he let his salute fall and his posture loosen somewhat. "You are among friends," the Queen continued, the same small smile still gracing her features. "Grateful friends. You were directly instrumental in the safe recovery of the mystical Silver Crystal."

"Merely performing my duty to the Crown, my Queen," Alex murmured, lowering his eyes to the floor self-consciously. "Thanks should go to the three brave soldiers who fell to his blade." _Grey…I swear I'll get him for you…_ "It was thanks to their sacrifice that the thief was stopped."

Sorrow, true sorrow, flickered through the Queen's radiant azure eyes. "Rest assured, Alex, their loss shall neither be forgotten, nor taken for granted. Thanks to them, and you, the enemy was delayed and the Silver Crystal was recovered. Thanks to them, _you_ are still alive and with us. Every life is as precious as any other."

"Yes, Majesty," he agreed solemnly, but it felt hollow. Three lives for his one…it was a horribly unbalanced 'reprieve'.

Neo-Queen Serenity's eyes remained dark for a long moment, but finally she lifted her gaze, her smile banishing the misery of the moment. "Enough. Now is not the time to linger on sorrows. The Crystal is safe and the attack on our fair city was repelled with minimal losses. Your three fellows will be memorialized, be assured. But today, we show our thanks to you."

So…Hotaru had been right? It was to be an award ceremony after all? _…small crowd for an award ceremony. Aren't there usually audiences for these things?_ Still, it didn't pay to question the royalty on such things.

The Queen tipped her head subtly, gazing beyond his shoulder. Frowning, Alex half-turned to glance back. Sometime during the intervening period while Alex was addressing the Queen, Artemis had vacated the Venus chair and taken up a position at one side of the audience chamber door. Sitting on the other side was a second cat, nearly identical to Artemis save that its fur was inky black and its eyes glinted red in the soft light from the crystal ceiling. Even as Alex watched, the golden crescent carved into the wooden door began to glow once again, as it had when he'd touched it before. Slowly, the doors parted, and as before what lay beyond was utterly obscured by white light until it opened completely.

The figure who strode into the audience chamber, flanked on either side by the two cats (their tails and noses held smugly high), was unmistakable.

Bright, flamboyant orange high-heels, held in place by orange straps about the slender ankles; long, ever so long bare legs, leading up to an almost laughably short orange skirt (held in place by a large orange bow at the back of her waist whose ends trailed like twin flowing tails) that made an heroic effort of preserving her modesty; above this, a white uniform (of sorts) made of robust cloth, thick like padded armor but aesthetically streamlined to hug curves in a not-unattractive manner. Another large bow, this one deep navy blue, adorned it at the center of the chest, a golden brooch presumably holding it in place at the base of her uniform's orange V-neck collar. Sleeveless, it gave way to bare upper arms, which subsequently gave way to elbow-length white gloves that terminated in orange trim. Above the uniform, a slender orange choker circled her neck closely, and above that, the bluest eyes he had ever seen…

Moving on. Partially obscured by her gilded bangs was a narrow golden band, a circlet or tiara that dipped in front to form a partial V whose point terminated between her fine eyebrows. Set directly into its center was an ovoid topaz, its color nearly blended with the circlet itself. That golden hair cascaded down over her shoulders, framed her like a cape, barely held in check by a final, overlarge crimson bow at the back of her head.

Sailor Venus, Soldier of Love—often called, by those who served in her division of the CTDF, the _Goddess_ of Love. However, her step was anything but ethereally divine today. She strode with her back stiff and straight, her head held high and her fine eyebrows drawn together in a most unpleasant manner. Nestled in her folded arms was a vaguely oblong bundle wrapped in white cloth, clutched close to her chest like a precious infant she refused to let anyone near. Even the two cats seemed vaguely wary of her, despite their distance.

Venus had no eyes for him as she strode down the narrow carpet path, her dark eyes boring into the Queen beyond him. Turning to face her, Alex carefully controlled his face as he gauged her reaction. The Queen seemed, amazingly enough…almost awkward. She would not meet the other woman's gaze directly, her eyes immediately focusing on the next nearest subject available—which happened to be him.

"It seems that Sailor Venus has arrived with the award with which you are to be presented," she said, and Alex was mortally certain he could detect the vaguest hint of a quaver in her voice as Venus' heels clicked ever closer. Before the Love Soldier could so much as draw level with him, however, the Queen lifted a hand, bidding her wordlessly to stop. Alex did not turn to look this time, but he heard the clicking cease. His arms were stiff by his sides, his posture militantly attentive once again. The two cats, perhaps predictably, ignored the Queen's gesture and strode past him on either side, coming to sit on their haunches on either side of the Queen's chair with their tails curled around before their front paws.

Serenity's voice was firm and resolute once more as she spoke again. "Turn and accept your award for devout service and bravery in the face of adversity, Division Six Specialist Fourth Class…Alex."

A kind of hush settled on the room, as Alex slowly turned, his brow furrowed suspiciously. Something was going on here, and he was part of it without being party to it.

Venus' eyes were already wide when he turned to face her, her brows drawn together in puzzlement mingled with…something else. When he faced her completely, still standing smartly at attention, her impossibly blue eyes somehow went wider still, perfectly round like saucers ringed with crystalline blue. Her petite jaw dropped open…and the bundle dropped from limp arms, tumbling to the floor with the distinct clatter of metal.

The rattle of metal at her feet (having miraculously managed not to fall onto her heel-shod feet) jerked her back to attention, and her fair cheeks tinted with color as she stooped quickly to gather it up again. Alex frowned, shifting his weight. Personally soothing as it was to the ego, he was well aware that he was not one of those men who had that…sort of effect on the opposite sex. Particularly not on the Sailor Soldier who could hold a significant percentage of the military by the heart-strings with little more than a smile and a wink.

Stepping closer, watching him like a predator in a zoo cage at first, Venus' eyes dipped slowly to the bundle in her arms and then lifted to him again. Something was odd in her gaze as she stretched her arms out, the bundle draped across her white-gloved palms. Now, rather than the possessiveness of a mother with her infant, Venus presented it to him with a strange kind of numbness, almost as though she were sleepwalking. Her eyes were unreadable now, void of the ire that had accompanied her entry into the audience chamber. Raising his hand, Alex curled his fingers around the cloth-wrapped shape. There was no mistaking the feel of a sword sheath, even through the cloth.

Venus did not take her wide, blank eyes from him, even as she edged around him to take her place in the chair whose back glowed with her planetary symbol. More than a little unnerved, Alex turned to face the Queen again, not certain whether he was to unwrap this…award…or not. She nodded to him, almost…urgently.

He attempted to maintain a proper air of ceremony, despite the lack of a crowd—he was surrounded by eight of the nine royal Guardians, and standing before the Queen herself!—but a part of the cloth snagged on the crossbars of the sword as he struggled to tug it free, forcing him to fumble awkwardly with it. Though he had failed to avoid embarrassing himself, he did at last manage to get the shroud loose, revealing at last his 'award'.

It was indeed a sword, once again arousing his suspicions full-mast. _Don't they usually give medals for injury in the line of duty?_ Again, though, he did not presume to question the Queen on her methods. Instead, he turned his attention to the weapon in his hands, draping the white shroud over his bandaged right shoulder so his hands were free.

It was a marvel to behold, in truth; almost more a work of art than a weapon. The entirety of the hilt was composed of silver, or at least some metal polished to shine with the perfect reflection of silver. What was more, it was not a solid piece; rather, it appeared to be an intricate composition of thick silver strands, twined and woven together to form the hilt and crossbars of a European-style sword. The handle was sheathed with an ivory grip, contoured to fit the shape of fingers; at the pommel of the sword, the silvery twine jutted at a blunt right angle, as if to partially frame the hand holding it. Set between the crossbars was a large, faceted, teal-colored stone whose nature he could not identify. The sheath was the color of ivory, braced with silver filigree.

As numb as Venus had been, he raised his eyes to the Queen. "It's…it's incredible, your Highness."

"It belonged to a warrior who fell an age ago, fighting for this world," she proclaimed, her small smile reminiscent, and if he looked closely enough…a little sad. Shaking her head as though to clear it of such thoughts, she turned her gaze up to him with an oddly hesitant expression. Her eyes slid, briefly, around the circle of Sailor Soldiers, and Alex followed despite himself. Most of the Soldiers (save the Princess, who looked vaguely confused) met her with subtle nods. Venus' answering glance was once again subtly hostile, but even as he watched she turned that odd gaze back upon him, causing him to shift uncomfortably and look to the Queen again.

Her head tilted somewhat to the side as she watched. "Alex…will you draw the sword?"

Blinking, Alex glanced down to the marvelous but clearly ceremonial weapon, then back up to the Queen. She continued to watch him, expectantly—as though her words had been a genuine request, not a command. Awkwardly, he found his own eyes drifting about the circle. Venus, in particular, seemed on the edge of her seat. Uranus and Neptune, seated on opposite sides of him facing one another, both had shrewd, calculating looks in their eyes. Mars, Mercury and Jupiter each wore expressions as though they were watching the climax of a movie; distant Saturn watched with truly blank face, her amethyst eyes unreadable. And the Princess—who could only have been Sailor Moon's modern advent, the leader of the Sailor Soldiers—seemed to be the only one present who had as little clue what was going on as he.

Even the cats were watching him, expectantly.

More than a little uncomfortable with all the attention focused upon him, some intimidating and some simply unsettling, he lifted the sword up by the sheath in his left hand, his right curling around the ivory grip of the sword. He hefted it up before his eyes, taking in a deep, preparatory breath. Obviously they were expecting something to happen when he drew it. He sincerely doubted it would explode, else they'd not have asked him to draw it standing so close to the Queen, but he wanted to be prepared.

It was actually a struggle to draw from its sheath—literally. It was not rusted in place, nor was there a latch; rather, as he began to pull, the weapon literally started to shake in his grasp, the force growing more violent the harder he pulled. It was like the thing was literally trying to jump out of his hands. White energy began to crackle around the seam and the teal gem in the hilt, tendrils running up and down the weapon and his arms like lightning, causing them to tingle like liquid fire running through his veins. For a long, eternally long moment he debated the merits of flinging the sword away.

Involuntarily, the words burst from his throat, even as the blade exploded from its scabbard.

"_Light come forth!!_"

Power, unbridled, unchecked _power_ coursed through his body. He could feel it, a painful constriction in his ribs at first, causing him to clutch painfully at the front of his shirt with his free hand and groan through his teeth. The feeling passed, however replaced with pure exhilaration. Gazing down at his hand, the flesh-tone was replaced with a blazing sapphire glow, though his clothing and visible bandaging remained undisturbed.

That was when it hit him, truly hit him. His back arched, his head flinging back, as the sword blazed blindingly. Unbidden, his arm swept it through the air across his body in a broad arc, cleaving through the empty space with a _whuff_ of parted air. In its wake it left a wave of blue-white energy which washed over him, clinging as it passed, settling over his shoulders with genuine weight like a shroud. Another sweep, to his right, created another curving band of light that curved around his forearms. The final cleave brought the weapon and his arm once again across his upper body, but the wave in its path descended to circle his calves.

His arm, hapless puppeteer of the sword, brought it around to lever over his left shoulder, as though for a heavy back-handed swing. A sound built up in the back of his throat like a growl, against his will, and with a snarling cry he flung the sword through the air a final time. The shining blade flashed brilliantly, the blinding light dazzling even him, and when it cleared…

All the Soldiers, even the Queen herself, were shielding their eyes. The cats were blinking, having turned their gaze away during the final phase. All the eyes upon him were round, though many of them were tinged with a hint of knowing, or disbelief.

Looking down, Alex found it difficult to suspend his _own_ disbelief. His clothing had been completely displaced—not the greatest loss, considering that the only part that had belonged to him was the shirt—by an entirely new ensemble. Draped over his shoulders was a long, sleeveless, split-tailed white coat, trimmed with gold, whose divided ends trailed down just below his knees. Beneath it, his sleeveless black shirt had been replaced by a long-sleeved one; the sleeves disappeared into a pair of silver forearm bracers that extended from his wrists to just short of his elbows. Similarly to the sleeves of Sephiroth's coat, the forearm bracers were molded on the outward-facing sides into fin-like blades. Beyond these, his hands were sheathed with black gloves, also tucked into the bracers. Glowing faintly from the back of each bracer was a single spherical stone, the same teal color as the one on the sword. Below the waist, his pressed military-issue pants had been replaced with a set of loose black trousers, tucked into gold-trimmed white boots that came as high as his knees. Set into each, just at the protective knee covering, was another perfectly smooth teal half-sphere. Completing the costume, from his neck was suspended a silver medallion in the shape of a triangle that rested heavily against his chest, set with the same stone in its center.

His right hand still clutched the sword, the sheath in his left. The long, double-edged blade itself was of a make he had never seen before; while the edges were perfectly smooth, silvery-hued metal, the gap within them was like a kind of perfectly smooth glass or stone, blue-white light swirling in its depths. Power continued to crackle over the blade and both his hands, sparks of blue light flickering and leaping in the air around him, _begging_ to be released.

Not really thinking about it, he flipped the sword around upside-down in his hand, his arm relaxing slightly so that he could rest the flat of the blade against his pant leg. His eyes, the pale blue in their gray depths now flickering with inner light, lifted to the Queen first of all. The fingers of his left hand uncurled, dropping the sheath—which faded from existence as it fell, not even reaching the ground—and then slowly lifted to sweep through his now slightly wild hair. His brow furrowed, confusion finally settling in beneath the preternatural calm that had settled over him.

"…what did you do to me?"

For a long moment, no one seemed to know what to say. The Crown Princess' crimson eyes were the widest of all, though Venus seemed to struggle to compete with her. To his surprise, it was not the Queen who answered him—rather, for the first time, one of the other Soldiers spoke.

"It is…a very complicated situation." It was Mercury, her deep blue eyes troubled. Ultimately, none of the Sailor Soldiers save Moon and Venus seemed particularly surprised by his metamorphosis, which troubled him all the more. Had he been set up?

Not that he felt…_bad_, really. In fact, he felt _great_. Powerful, confident. Stronger than ever, like he could take on the world…or that monster, Sephiroth.

"The trouble is where to begin." This time, it was Mars speaking, her chin settled between her thumb and her first knuckle as she thought. Her eyes strayed briefly to Venus, sympathy clouding them momentarily.

"Look, this is all pretty uncomfortable," Alex—somehow, even thinking of himself by that name felt…wrong now—admitted, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Can somebody give me the short of it?" Inwardly, he was somewhat aghast at his own bluntness, addressing the Queen and her court in such a manner. They seemed to let it pass, though he could have sworn the black cat next to the Queen's right foot was giving him a dirty look.

His Captain obliged him, Uranus clearing her throat softly for his attention and only speaking when he turned to face her. "Luminaire." The name felt immediately familiar, satisfying…right. "You've been asleep for a long time. I wouldn't be surprised if your memory is not completely…fresh." There were odd looks directed at her from several directions, though her partner Neptune matched her narrow-eyed gaze—and Luminaire, himself, watched her with blank neutrality.

Neptune picked up where she left off, forcing him to turn a complete one-eighty to face her. "Your powers are required again, however."

"To defeat _Sephiroth_." This time, he himself had spoken, though the voice scarcely felt like his own. It was as though a small, detached part of him was watching the rest act without inhibitions, with no sense of hesitation or reserve.

More heads lifted on all sides, bemused glances turning back and forth, but Neptune steepled her fingers in front of her. "Sephiroth?" she asked, her brows elevating subtly…probingly.

Luminaire snorted, his right hand lifting slightly, just enough to pitch the sword down so its point embedded at a slight angle in the carpet and the crystalline floor beneath. He caught a couple of flinches, and the black cat's tail bristled, but no one commented.

"Sephiroth is the name of the thief the Queen defeated," he continued, idly flexing the fingers of his now empty hand.

Though a few of the Sailor Soldiers seemed vaguely uncomfortable with the direction the award ceremony had taken, Uranus and Neptune were unrelenting. Uranus was the one who questioned him next. "Were you able to learn anything else?"

"Only that his power and skill are immense. No mere human can possibly hope to stand against him. Those three privates didn't stand a chance. …neither did I." His eyes narrowed, and he punched his right fist into his empty left hand with a resounding smack. "Next time, though…"

"Next time we will deal with him as a group," Uranus interrupted him, her voice unyielding and hard as steel. "This man, this…Sephiroth…is too dangerous a foe to underestimate a second time. The very fact that he was able to steal the Silver Crystal to begin with should have told us this much."

He met her eyes boldly, almost defiantly, something he would have greatly hesitated to do mere moments ago save under extreme circumstances, but she was implacable. Huffing a dissatisfied breath through his nostrils, he averted his gaze. "…right."

Taking command of the meeting once more, the Queen raised her voice, prompting him to turn toward her. "_Provided_ he dares to attack again. For now, perhaps it would be best to return matters to a state as close to 'normal' as possible."

Luminaire did not miss the subtle implication in her tone, and his left hand lowered to his side, fingers partially curling as though clutching something. Flickers of pale blue light coalesced into the form of his sword's silver-braced sheath, and he plucked it out of the flooring with a casual tug.

He actually hesitated, before returning it to its scabbard. This feeling, this power…it was intoxicating, as was the confidence and composure that seemed part and parcel to the effects. Still, Neo-Queen Serenity was looking at him expectantly, and he was not mad enough with power to defy her. Levering the point into place, he slowly slid the weapon away, hesitating only once before shoving the final inch home. It was not until the weapon clicked into place that a brief, dazzling flash of light overtook the local area again.

This blaze was much shorter, there was no flair and ceremony this time; the light flooded his vision, and when it was gone, so too was the new attire (replaced with his less than presentable clothing and bandages from before), the brimming power he had felt running through his arms…and, with them, the unnatural self-assuredness. Immediately, he swallowed hard, realizing just how crass he had acted seconds ago. He couldn't even safely say that he it had been like another person in his body, for he had possessed full control of his facilities at the time. His usual limitations had simply seemed more hollow, less meaningful. Hastily, he shifted his boot so that it covered the slit his sword had made in the carpet—and the gouge in the crystal flooring, material he had not been able to scratch with a _diamond_.

"Thank you, Specialist Alex," the Queen was saying, seemingly heedless of his profuse nervous sweating. "As I am certain we all have a great deal to think about, we shall allow you to retire to your quarters at this time, while we discuss matters. You will find your injuries completely healed, I trust. Keep the sword with you, but I must request discretion when using it in front of those who are not Sailor Soldiers or of the royal family."

"Y-Yes, my Queen," Alex forced himself not to mumble, saluting sharply, and then beginning to step back with a bow. "Ah…by your leave." Turning, he began a brisk walk toward the door.

The sound of a brief shuffle amongst the chairs caused him to pause and glance over his shoulder. Venus had started to rise, as if to pursue him, but from the chair to her right Uranus had restrained her, with a hand on her forearm. The Soldier of Love tossed matching looks of displeasure to both her and the Queen, before settling back into her chair. A glance in his direction told her he had seen the spectacle, evidently, for she quickly averted her eyes to gaze at nothing in particular.

Frowning, Alex continued toward the door. The hadn't let him ask any of the questions percolating through his head, and all he had to go on now was this strange weapon and a name.

Still, with this power…

_Sephiroth, you are going to die._

The thought was like a mantra as the door cycled through its luminous opening sequence, and it carried him all the way to the barracks.


	5. 4 Downtime

_Because I figured...eh. Why not? A little downtime for our heroes--and for the bad guys too, complete with cryptic plot exposition and vague hints of yet another Original Character. But fear not, what readers dare to tread this far--no Sailor Earths or Sailor Suns in THIS piece of fiction._

4. Downtime

"_So this is the Keybearer?"_

_Sephiroth nodded, his arms solemnly crossed. His singular, sweeping black wing shifted languidly, feathers rustling together against his back. The circular chamber in which they stood was barely illuminated at all, only dimly lit by the distant sconces embedded in the walls. The flames within, already sickly and wan, were further obscured by the fact that their glass facades had not been dusted in an age and a half. The shadows could easily withstand the light, but it was in darkness that they truly thrived._

_The significance of the lighting, however, was that it partially concealed the figure standing before them, its outline only vaguely distinguishable. The soft light from the sconces illuminated (and accentuated) soft, distinctly feminine curves; long, mostly-bare legs and the vaguest hints of a short, ruffled skirt. However, they failed to illuminate anything further. There was one thing, though, that the darkness itself seemed determined to draw to their attention, gathering and swirling around the vaguest shape dangling from her right hand. It appeared, on close observation…to be a key, a single massive key nearly three feet in length, cradled by a handle built into its base, the teeth at its head gnarled and twisted like the crown of some dead tree._

_The smaller silhouette by Sephiroth's side lifted a single hand, slowly, as though to touch the feminine figure's cheek. "She's beautiful…"_

"_Don't bother," Sephiroth intoned, without much urgency._

_His companion's hand had already completed its journey, fingertips lightly touching the side of the girl's face, earning no response. Her dead black eyes, the distant flames of the wall sconces glittering in them like dying stars, stared blankly ahead without taking notice of either of them. The shorter figure glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Dead?" But that couldn't be; despite her frozen expression, she stood upright perfectly well of her own volition._

"_Her heart has been swallowed by the Darkness." Sephiroth shrugged, profoundly unconcerned. "The Heartless consumed her heart without much struggle; she practically gave it to them."_

"…_then she's ours?" Sephiroth's associate turned to face the Keybearer again, gazing down at the great Key in her hand._

"_That's right." This time, there _was_ an audible smirk in the dark swordsman's voice. "The Key is ours. All that remains is to find the Keyhole."_

"_It wasn't in the Palace, then?"_

"_Not in the most obvious location, the Silver Crystal's chamber, to be sure." Sephiroth exhaled derisively through his nostrils. "Theoretically the Crystal itself could be used to pinpoint the Keyhole's location, but it's useless to us."_

"_One thing at a time, Sephiroth. We must be patient. All will come to us in time, my friend." The shorter figure slowly raised his right hand before his face, fingers slowly curling one by one into a fist with subtle creaks of his glove. Slowly, a shape began to burn itself into visibility through the glove, glowing so brightly as to shine directly through the leather. A rough-edged, stylized depiction of a hooded figure, cradling a scythe in its arms whose sweeping blade curved over its cowl. "The Soul Eater will ensure it."_

- - -

"So…so that's it, then? You just…bring him out here for me to see, give him his sword back, interrogate him and shoo him off on his way?"

Sailor Venus was not happy. And she was making her displeasure indubitably known to the gathered Sailor Soldiers and Queen.

"Venus, he doesn't remember _anything_ beyond the present," Mercury struggled to placate her, sitting forward in her chair.

"How can you be sure?" Though Venus' tone was firm, there was doubt in her eyes. He hadn't seemed to react much to her at all, beyond his understandable confusion.

"Any number of things," Neptune supplied, her fingers still steepled in thought. "Foremost, his state of shock. Further, his lack of recognition. The only thing that seemed to stir a spark in him was his name."

Venus sagged back in her chair, her shoulders slumping in defeat. She couldn't argue with the logic, though that wouldn't stop her from addressing him on it directly, once she got the chance.

"Come on, V, you remember how it was for the rest of us, don't you?" Mars asked, allowing the formalities to fall now that the Sailor Soldiers were the only ones present. "It takes time, and it doesn't come all at once. Otherwise his head would explode." She attempted a small, whimsical smile, and it seemed to make some limited progress in soothing her friend's feelings.

The Princess, still adorned in her Sailor Moon raiment, gazed up at her mother with confused eyes. "I don't understand. Who was that man? How did you all know him?"

"It was a very long time ago, Small Lady," Jupiter supplied, speaking for the first time since the start of the gathering, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes at the Princess' good-natured glare—the pastel-haired heiress to the throne felt that she had long since grown past that nickname. "But it was after the last of your training-visits to the past. I don't believe you ever got to meet him."

"_What_?" Moon's crimson eyes were wide. "He's _that_ old?" Her gaze turned to the door with disbelief.

She managed somehow not to glare at all the half-amused, half-indulgent glances that were exchanged, though she _did_ glower halfheartedly at her friend Saturn's soft laugh. It wasn't her fault that everybody spoke in riddles around the Palace half the time.

"Ask me later this evening, dear, and I will explain." The Queen fondly touched her cheek, placating her, and then turned her regal blue eyes to the gathering at hand. "We have a name for our enemy now. Though it may seem small knowledge, it is in fact a large step; seldom are we given a name for our enemies so quickly."

Saturn seemed to shift in her chair, uncomfortably, but no one but the Princess appeared to notice.

"Perhaps we should adjourn this gathering to give each of us time to think," the Queen continued. "My friends, your insight and information is always welcome—do not hesitate, any of you, if even the slightest notion comes to your heads in regards to this…Sephiroth. Regardless how significant you feel it is, any piece of knowledge or theory about a new enemy must be open to consideration."

One by one the chairs began to empty, their occupants rising at their own pace to file out of the chamber singly or in pairs. The Queen gently urged her daughter (who had gathered up the sleeping Diana in her arms) to go with a little nudge to her shoulder, but when Venus began to rise, Serenity stopped her with a significant look. The golden-haired Soldier eased back into her chair, frowning.

Once the chamber was empty save for the two, even the pair of cats having vacated hot on the heels of the last Soldier, the Queen addressed her friend—and once, an age and then some ago, her idol—without meeting the other pair of blue eyes.

"I imagine you have some choice words for me."

Venus didn't look at her either, arms draped on the arm-rests of her chair, her gaze fixated on the wall beyond the row of chairs facing her. "I thought I would. Can't remember any of them, though."

"Venus…Minako," Serenity's use of her given name drew the Soldier's eyes to her, "I stand by my actions; I do not feel they were uncalled for. However…" The two eyes met, gauging one another, almost like two fencers lining up, waiting for the other to move…or call a truce. "…I apologize for any hurt they may have caused you. You had to see him, though, to confirm in fact that it _was_ him. Your memory of him is the clearest. But if we had told you that we even suspected, beforehand…"

Venus nodded, slowly. "It might have tainted my judgment. I might have looked too hard and seen features that weren't there. You did the right thing, Usagi. I'm…sorry for what I said, earlier."

Her Queen's features melted into a smile, whose infectious quality spread to her own face. The two women sighed, the tension leaving their shoulders with the breath, but neither moved from their chairs for awhile.

"…he really hasn't changed, has he?" Neo-Queen Serenity quirked a wry half-smile, glancing to the nick in the flooring.

"Actually, he has…" Venus murmured with a frown, rubbing her gloved hands together. At her liege's questioning gaze, she spoke without looking up from her hands. "That is to say…well, I suppose he hasn't. He _had_ changed. Before. But now he's a lot like he was at first. Brash, arrogant…probably a complete jerk. At least, as Luminaire. I don't know why it seems to change him so much."

"Probably for the same reasons our powers seem to change us. We are _all_ of us more confident, more free of inhibition, when transformed." Wisely, the Queen made no mention of some of her…conduct, during her earliest battles, though she lightly skimmed the surface with her next words. "Though our…_core_ selves remain the same, the powers and identities bestowed by transformation bring out a side in us that knows no fear, in combat _or_ socially."

"None of us ever acted like _that_, though. Luminaire was always a cocky, self-centered blowhard—at least, at first."

"He was a young man, no older than the rest of us. There's a fundamental difference between the mentality of young boys and young girls. However, I think that he may not suffer from precisely the _same_…personality quirks, now. The circumstances of his life, and the bequeathing of his power, are vastly different than before."

Venus sighed, looking toward the door again. "Why did you just send him out? Why not explain? I'm sure he must be confused, if he really doesn't remember anything at all."

The Queen's gaze followed hers. "Because he must learn for himself. Minako, we can't mold him into the exact image of the person he once was. He has to forge his own life and his own personality. If it happens that somewhere along the line, he ends up remembering who and what he was, becoming the person you…knew, then there is no doubt in my mind things will work out for you again."

"…and if not?" There was a note of helplessness in Venus' tone.

"Stop that. It isn't like you to be so negative. What's important is that we've found him, and right at the beginning of what may well bloom into another war. We will need all the capable hands we can muster."

"You're right." Venus smiled, radiantly, at her old friend. "Thanks, Usagi." Rising from her chair, she made as if to follow the other Sailor Soldiers at last…but paused, glancing over her shoulder. "Say, doesn't the King arrive today?"

A smile, no less than adoring, crept over the Queen's often austere expression. "Yes. I should make ready to greet him."

"Come on." Venus extended a hand for her, still smiling. "I'll help you pick something out."

Serenity—No, Usagi Tsukino—accepted her old friend's hand and allowed herself to be drawn from her chair. "Thanks, Minako."

"What are friends for, after all, if not to help you drop jaws?"

- - -

Alex had only just reached the door to his room in the barracks when the first episode hit him.

His knees buckled, he pitched forward as his limp fingers slipped from the doorknob, his forehead thumping painfully against the oaken surface set within its crystalline frame. Oddly enough, the fingers of his left hand, still clutching the sheath of the ceremonial sword, _tightened_ their grip rather than losing it.

Images, sounds, sensations flashed in his head, heedless of his closed eyes. Visions of his hands, sheathed in gold-trimmed white gauntlets, power blazing through them, strength suffusing his arms. Wind rushing past his ears, whipping through his hair as he _vaulted_ through the air, unaided by plane or glider, unimpeded by gravity. Faces, familiar faces, rushed by like a slide-show…though they _shouldn't_ have been familiar, not in the sense he felt he knew them.

Faces of the Sailor Soldiers—some of them, at least, including the Queen herself in the unmistakable uniform of Sailor Moon—only…younger, barely more than children, like the Princess herself had been. The expressions varied; anger, accusation, smiling good humor, whimsical jesting.

The last one, however, hit him like a blow to the ribs. The face of Venus, Soldier of Love, her slender golden brows drawn together in ire, pointing a boldly accusing finger at him sheathed in her white elbow-length glove. _"Just who do you think you _are_? You can't just treat people like that!"_

For all its content, the vision was over in a matter of seconds, leaving him on his knees leaning against the door of his room. His brow furrowed, bleary eyes struggling to focus, as he raised his arm to wipe the cold sweat from his brow.

_What the hell…?_

He hadn't gotten to ask any questions, and they hadn't told him anything. All he had was this sword, and now it was messing with his head, as well! He couldn't well have demanded an explanation from the Queen, of course; cryptic or not, she was still the ruler of the whole confounded kingdom. But…

Quickly, he shook himself out of such harsh thoughts. The hallucination was probably just a small side-effect. She _did_ say that the sword once belonged to a dead hero. Who knew how this transformation business worked, better than the Queen and her Sailor Soldiers? He had to believe they wouldn't have simply given him something that would have harmed him; they had defended the peace of the land for ages. What reason would they have to ruin the life of one grunt soldier?

But then, what reason would they have to give him a weapon possessed of such a mind-blowing power, a weapon that should have been in the hands of a genuine hero? And, for that matter…why had Venus acted so strangely? There had been something almost…expectant, in those odd looks she kept shooting him.

He dismissed his bleak thoughts by force, twisting the knob to his door and slumping inside, pressing his back to the cool wooden surface with a weary sigh. If the hallucinations persisted, he would report to the medical wing. With luck, he might even be able to catch Doctor Mizuno—the Soldier, Sailor Mercury—and inquire into the matter with a legitimate excuse.

In the meantime, he was in need of some serious sleep. If the Captain took exception to his sleeping before sundown…

Well, she could take that up with Luminaire.

- - -

Ami awoke with a start—to the rude sensation of her chin slipping from where it rested in the palm of her hand, her elbow propped upon the counter before her. It was a combination of quick thinking and reflex that prevented her chin from painfully striking the table, catching herself with her hands and blinking her large sleep-fuzzed eyes. It took a few groggy moments to get her bearings, and she fumbled blindly in her sterile white coat's breast pocket for her glasses, only to realize that they had slipped off her face sometime while she was asleep to land on the counter. The lab was empty now, save for her, had been even before she'd fallen asleep. Most of the major work was done later into the evenings and afternoons, though in truth the laboratory staff had a very loose schedule; in the age of magic and the power of the Mystical Silver Crystal, general science was a field with diminishing practical application. Not that it was all _that_ devastating to Ami—she had always been more interested in medical science, and healing was such a rare gift that there was plenty of need for skilled doctors.

Belatedly, she realized that it was the chiming of the door that had awoken her. In a rare flash of irritability, she frowned. She really wished they would replace those muted, musical chimes with something a little more practical. Though the _alarm_ claxons carried loud and clear despite their musical quality, the door chimes were unfortunately quiet, unobtrusive, and had an unpleasant tendency to blend into other background noises.

Lifting her glasses in one hand, she raised the other to knuckle a bit more sleep from her eyes as she pushed out of her chair and crossed the crystal floor to the lab entrance. Flicking the arms of her glasses open, she pushed them into place on the bridge of her nose with one hand, opening the door with a single touch of her other hand to the appropriate panel on its surface. She had just enough time to run a hand briskly through her hair, ensuring that it was in at least some semblance of order, before the door opened to reveal…

"Hi, Ami." Makoto's cheerfully smiling face greeted her, a circular tin container about the circumference of a dinner-plate resting upon the brunette's upturned palms.

"Hello, Mako," she greeted, not quite succeeding at keeping the grogginess out of her voice. "What brings you here at this hour?"

Her friend wasn't having any of it. "I'm here to make sure you actually, y'know…eat." She gave the shorter woman a stern look.

Ami had the grace to look genuinely sheepish. "I do eat, Mako…" she hedged, glancing guiltily aside.

The tall brunette followed her gaze to a clear spot on the laboratory counter, where a few crumbs lingered on a silver-embroidered napkin, and heaved a long-suffering sigh. "I mean _food_, not a few crackers." Without permitting further debate, she barged her way into the lab, brusquely sweeping aside the crumb-speckled napkin and replacing it with her temperature-sealed tin. With a small flourish, she removed the lid, releasing faint steam and a mouth-watering aroma, revealing no less than a masterpiece of curry evenly divided for two by a metal partition. There was an open (if whimsical) debate throughout the palace about which division of the CTDF must be happier—Minako Aino's Division Five, led by the heart-throb of the military and self-proclaimed "Goddess of Love", or Makoto Kino's Division Four, whose commander took no greater pleasure than creating culinary-inspired bliss.

Such jokes were invariably punctuated by a lack of envy for the men and women of Division Six. "Drill Sergeant" seemed to suit Haruka's temperament just fine.

Makoto had already appropriated a stool, and sat watching the bluenette impatiently as she dragged another into place nearby with her foot. With a small sigh, Ami accepted the invitation, plopping into the stool and taking up the provided utensils.

"So," Makoto began, slightly muffled around a mouthful of curry, "What's new? We hardly see you these days, 'cept at meetings."

"Actually, I think I am close to a solution," Ami began distractedly, her gaze straying toward the spot at the counter where she had been previously dozi—studying. "The creatures from the other day…the Shadows, for lack of a better word…their substance continually deteriorates when exposed to any kind of light. I suspect that they are unable to remain exposed to the light of day for long stretches at a ti—"

"I didn't mean _that_, Ami," Makoto cut her off with a soft groan, massaging one of her temples with the knuckles of one hand. "Save the serious talk for the meetings and stuff. I wouldn't know what to do with that info, anyway. What's new with _you_? Seen any good movies lately? Had the sniffles recently? …seeing anyone?"

Makoto's face lit impishly when the bluenette's face colored slightly at that last prod, but Ami quickly stammered out a reply as her gaze averted. "I have been busy attempting to keep the medical and science wings of the palace in order. Many of the infirmary staff have been at their wit's end since the attack. There has not been such a large influx of patients since the Palace was erected."

The brunette could only sigh wearily. "There's more to life than work, you know. There's an entire staff there to run the place, and even if they _needed_ you there to hand-hold them throughout the whole process, you can't _do_ it all at once. You're no less human than the rest of them—or us."

Ami fumbled for a reply, but the best she could do was a half-heartedly mumbled, "I suppose," before her friend clapped her on the back.

"C'mon. You and me, we're going out on the town. Put some color back in your face. And then you're gonna sleep in till noon tomorrow, you hear?"

Ami was aghast, but her sputtered protest provided no deterrence as the taller woman quite promptly (albeit gently) hooked her by the arm and began to guide her out of the lab, despite her protests.

They were gone a grand total of two seconds before Makoto sheepishly slunk back in, Ami still in tow, and fetched the dinner-tin they had been sharing.

- - -

"Wow…so that's who he is, huh?" The Crown Princess Usagi Tsukino's ruby eyes were still eagerly wide, the long twin tails of pink hair that spilled down from her coiffure swaying against the back of her dress as she walked the halls beside her dark-haired friend. "I never realized what all I missed after I left the last time."

Hotaru nodded. "I never met him much, myself…he interacted more with your mother and her friends." She giggled softly behind one black-gloved hand. "I think he was a little scared of Haruka-papa, though he would never admit it. He was a little rough-mannered and a little careless, but in the end he was out to do the right thing."

"Hmph!" Usagi turned her nose up in the air, scoffing mock-haughtily. "Not at _all _like the man of _my_ dreams!"

Hotaru sighed, albeit good-naturedly. "Usagi, the 'man of your dreams' only exists _in_ your dreams," she retorted, rolling her eyes, but she gave the other girl a nudge with her elbow to indicate her teasing.

The Princess seemed unperturbed though, her eyes actually starry for a moment. "Yeaaah…" she muttered blissfully, then seemed to shake herself out of her reverie. "Anyway, he seemed like kind of a jerk. He put a _hole_ in the floor! Luna was so mad she was almost spitting when we got out!"

Hotaru shrugged as they rounded another bend. "He seems that way, but I think it's just a defense mechanism. What worries me more is what he was saying in the infirmary."

Usagi came to a stop, her sun-yellow gown swishing around her ankles as her fae-like brow furrowed. "You talked to him before?"

Turning, Hotaru shrugged her slender shoulders. "Just a little. I was trying to take a bit of the load off the healers. He was still asleep when I found him. He was mumbling in his sleep though, kept saying the name 'Sephiroth, Sephiroth'."

"The guy who tried to steal the Crystal?"

Hotaru nodded. "He was tossing and turning and mumbling that over and over, and then he sat ramrod-straight up and screamed 'I'll kill you'! I'm worried, if he's still that fixated on it."

"That's kind of scary," Usagi hedged, shifting her weight from foot to foot, her pastel-pink eyebrows drawing together. "Is it gonna be okay, with a guy like that having those kinds of powers?"

The dark-haired girl sighed again. "I don't honestly think he would hurt any of us. He had a very difficult experience though, he was the only one who survived a fight with Sephiroth. I think we can count on him to help us fight the Heartle—ah…the, uh, heartless creatures we fought off before." Hotaru spoke quickly, to cover her near slip. She hadn't resolved just yet whether to tell _anyone_ of her encounter with that strange boy on the wall. To be sure, Haruka-papa would be immediately suspicious, thinking the boy a new enemy trying to get in her good graces. "I'm more worried that he might do something rash and endanger himself…or others. Luminaire's heart was always in the right place but he wasn't always a thinker."

"Hmm." Usagi seemed dubious, but she only shrugged, smiling as she briskly caught up with her friend again. "Well, c'mon! Let's go sneak out of the palace and see what people are saying about it all outside!"

Before Hotaru could protest, Usagi was already jogging down the hall in a most unladylike fashion. The dusky girl could only sigh, hooking hair behind her ear with one hand as she started off after her exuberant friend. "Usagi, wait for me!"


End file.
